


Until the world is renewed

by ferowyn



Series: Hobbit Kink [13]
Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Durincest, M/M, Modern Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 13:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferowyn/pseuds/ferowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time passes, and Middle Earth as we know it matures into a world not unlike the one we live in today. Thorin is a wealthy billionaire, but the Red Dragon is threatening to destroy his empire</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the world is renewed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hobbit Kink Meme Prompt:  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=4269634#t4412994
> 
> Please excuse any mistakes, English is not my mother tongue
> 
> Okay, I'm sorry if I made any mistakes concerning economics... I'm absolutely not interested in that stuff.

## Until the world is renewed

Richard tries to suppress the tears. A man of his position (or rather ex-position, considering the latest changes) is not supposed to cry. Not even when he has lost almost everything in less than twenty-four hours.

 

Erebor is the last non state-governed mining-empire in Middle-Earth. He loves this company with all his being, for his grandfather has built it, starting with nothing, and his family’s sweat and lifeblood are the foundations Erebor is based on. It is not easy to maintain everything in these times of crisis and he is always doing his best in order to keep as many employees as possible. However, so as to avoid having to slash staff he had to sell stocks, which had left him with a little less than the majority.

It had been a good plan. In one of his mines a mysterious reef had been found, the gems it offered glowing blue in the dark. He had not seen it yet, but had called the mineral Arkenstone. Suddenly the business had been blooming, and he would have been able to buy the stocks back within only a few days (if the stock holders were ready to sell, but he could have offered them a very tempting price), but merely twelve hours ago an anonymous organization called the Red Dragon had bought up _all_ the stocks that were not in his own hands. He had lost the majority, had lost his family’s legacy.

Men having lost much less than him had killed themselves because of it and for a few minutes he is tempted to do so, wanting to be weak for once in his life, but _no_. His father has taught him to hold his head high and take hits with dignity; and he has always been a fighter. He is not going to give up so easily.

He is trying to make his mind up about his further approach when a small packet is delivered into his office. It contains the first delivery of tiny gems mined from the Arkenstone-streak. Richard is truly amazed – the stone is beautiful – but when he reaches out, takes one of the splinters, he is flooded with memories.

 

Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain.  
Richard Armitage, owner of Erebor, last mining-empire in Middle-Earth.  
They are one and the same person.

 

Richard remembers everything. The pain of losing his home and legacy for the first time, the feeling of never belonging anywhere, the triumph when the dragon Smaug (Smaug! That was the name of the leader of that infernal organization, too!) had been defeated, the emptiness in his heart when he had heard about the deaths of his nephews and the way his body had felt incredibly light, despite all the injuries, when death had finally claimed him after the Battle of Five Armies. So this is what their forefathers have been talking about when saying “until the world is renewed”. He feels like a stranger in this odd future world, although he has spent all of his second life here. His head is spinning.

It takes three drinks until he finally manages to focus on the problems the presence has confronted him with, managing not to dwell on the past for the moment. If he has returned in a role similar to the one in his old life, and Smaug as well – then the others may be here, too. He suddenly remembers the cranky shopkeeper of Shadowfax, the store where he always buys his spices and herbs. Now that he is thinking of it the old man is looking quite similar to… “Dis?”

“Yes?” His secretary is already standing in the doorway. He freezes for a moment. Dis? His sister had been called like that1 However, Dissania Payne has no resemblance of his dear sibling.

“I need you to go to Shadowfax and tell the shopkeeper, Mr McKellen, to come here immediately. If he does not want to pay him enough until he does.”

She leaves with a nod and returns only fifteen minutes later, the cranky old man trailing behind her. Richard, who has spent the time pacing in his office, whips around and stares at the newcomer. “Gandalf!” he whispers, truly amazed. Maybe there is a chance to save Erebor!

The shopkeeper cocks his head. “Excuse me? I am Ian McKellen, as you might as well know, Mr Armitage. You are a very good customer of mine.”

Richard listens with only half an ear, frantically trying to find out how to make the man remember. He had touched the Arkenstone… Quickly he grabs one of the gems and puts it in Mr McKellen's hands. Before the old shopkeeper has the chance to ask a question he freezes. For a few minutes he does not move and when he finally looks at him Richard sees the knowledge in his eyes. “Thorin?”

 

“If we are here, then the others must be, too. Do you remember any human who could be one of us?”

Gandalf – Ian – Gandalf – _in Durin’s name_! This is terribly confusing! – squints his eyes. “I cannot think of anyone who has been part of our company, however, I know a couple that could be very helpful as well. They are gypsies, living in a trailer not too far from my shop. In case you are wondering how I met them – I’m sure you remember my new self’s rather alternative life-style.” He smirks and Richard cannot suppress a chuckle.

“In no universe could Ian be odder than Gandalf. I mean – you were an Istari. That’s hard to beat!”

Ian huffs. “Whatever. The woman I am talking about is a fortune-teller and her husband is offering his service as an alternative healer to all who believe in it.”

“I bet you did!”

“I still do,” Ian retorts, “especially now that I have a conjecture who they might have been.”

“Well? Tell me!”

Ian’s grin is wicked. “Still as impatient as back then… and probably as stubborn as well. I am not going to tell you, you’ll have to wait until they are here. Give me a minute; I will call them straight away.” He pulls a seemingly ancient phone out of his pocket. Richard only raises an eyebrow (Gandalf talking to someone on a cell phone – that thought is ridiculous!). “Cate! It’s me, Ian! I need you and Hugo to come to the Erebor-building right now. Could you do that for me? … No, I’m not hurt, Hugo doesn’t need to bring his utensils. I simply need your consult in an important matter… Sure. See you in five!” Ian looks rather pleased with himself. “They are on their way.”

“ _Who_?” Richard tries again. No, he has never been particularly patient.

“I told you – my friends. Cate Blanchett and Hugo Weaving. If anyone can help us at this point it is them.”

 

Fortunately it does not take the two gypsies long and when they are knocking at the door to Richard’s office (Dis is rather appalled by the appearance of his guests) he feels like he is sitting on live coal. They need to find the others as quickly as possible if they want to have any chance to save Erebor!

Then the two are standing in the doorway and the memories are flooding his brain once again.  
He does not know the fortune-teller, but he immediately recognizes Lord Elrond. Bloody elves!

Ian gets up and bows lightly as soon as they enter the office. “Lady Galadriel,” he greets, before Richard can give them the Arkenstone. He expects the woman - Cate Blanchett if he remembers correctly – to look surprised, but the beautiful blonde (another one of those pointed-ear-bastards!) only smiles, surrounded by an aura of knowledge and wisdom. Her eyes are old when she answers.

“Mithrandir. I have been waiting for you to remember.”

Thorin wants to scream. He may have never seen her in person, but of course he has heard about the Lady of Lothlorien and her blasted gift. Richard barely manages to control his alter-ego. He frowns. “Lady Galadriel,” he interrupts (the dwarf in him is rebelling against every kind of politeness when talking to an elf) “do you know about the whereabouts of any members of my company?”

She looks at him and he thinks she might be seeing everything he is and ever has been. “I have managed to locate four so far, and one of them will be able to find the rest. I have already arranged for them to come here, the second I got your call.” She gives Ian another smile and he blushes lightly. “I hope you do not mind if we return to our trailer, there are still a few customers waiting for us. If you need our help again – you’ve got our number.”

Richard snorts with laughter.

 

It is only two days later that the first of the dwarves arrives, after an exhausting flight. He knocks at the door to Richard’s office (Dis is slowly starting do get used to his unexpected guests) and when Ian opens it Thorin forgets to breathe.

The newcomer smiles kindly. “I am Ken Stott. No need to show me the Arkenstone, Lady Galadriel has sent me something unidentifiable in her letter. I’m not sure I want to know what it is, probably some bloody elf-stuff. However, it made me remember. Oh Thorin, it’s so good to see you!”

There are tears in Richard’s eyes when he hugs the man – dear, loyal Balin! – and he feels the older one’s hands clutch to his shirt. “It’s good to see you, too,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.  
Ian and he have spent the last two days doing what they could in order to prevent the Red Dragon from taking control. Whenever there had been time Gandalf had been telling him about what had happened after his death and only too well he remembers the deep sadness he had felt when he had heard about the fellowship finding Balin’s tomb in Moria.

Ken smiles the smile that Thorin had grown up with, the smile that had been able to calm and reassure him in any situation in his old life. It still works. “So, what’s the plan?”

Richard finds himself unable to answer, but Ian smiles understandingly and starts to explain. “We need to find out what we can about Smaug. If we know his weakness we will be able to blackmail or bribe him into selling his stocks. And we think we will need the whole company to do so.”

Ken nods thoughtfully. “Whom have you found yet?”

“Only you, but Lady Galadriel said she had sent word to three more and one of them should be rather helpful in locating the others,” Ian answers.

Ken nods again. “Very well. Thorin – by the way, you two have not given me your new names yet! – I suggest you do whatever you can to stop the Red Dragon from taking over. Ian will be searching the internet for the rest of our company, maybe more than you are famous nowadays. What about Fili and Kili? They were also known very well as dwarves. As soon as you see the pictures you should be able to recognize them. Meanwhile I will be trying to find out as much as possible concerning Smaug. This is going to be tricky, considering that he’s stayed anonymous so far, but I’ve always been quite good with computers.”

Ian and Richard nod, quite relieved that they have a plan now.

 

The next dwarf who arrives is wearing a black suit and sunglasses, looking very important. Dis obviously is really happy when she opens the door for him and the three working men (luckily the office is so big) raise their heads, delight showing in their eyes. It has been three days since Ken’s arrival and they have achieved quite a lot.

By now Ken knows everything the internet has to offer about Smaug and the Red Dragon and Ian has found a very popular singer who might be Kili (it is hard to say, since his hair is dyed green and he is wearing more piercings than could be counted), a secluded poetry author who looks a lot like Ori and an actor who is known most of all for his womanizing – well, along with the leading rolls in quite a lot of blockbusters. They have not yet come to agree whether he is Fili or not.

“Jed Brophy,” the newcomer introduces himself. “Though you will remember me as Nori.”

“Yes, we do,” Richard smiles. “Good to have you here.”

“Good to be back,” Nori replies. “Lady Galadriel has written me everything she knows and I have already found another member of our company. We are indeed lucky that I am working at a secret agency – and yes, this information is as secret as said agency, but I trust you not to let anything slip – otherwise we would have never been able to recognize or locate him. I have already contacted him, this is the reason why it has taken me so long to come here. He should arrive within the next two weeks and in the meantime I should be able to find everybody else.”

The others exchange amazed glances. Seems like this is what Galadriel had been talking about.

Ken smiles. “That’s very useful indeed. We think we’ve found Fili, Kili and Ori, but we are not sure. Maybe you could help us with that.”

“Sure,” Jed answers and starts to boot up three laptops. Richard raises an eyebrow.

“Lady Galadriel had said two more are on their way, but we don’t know who,” Ian adds.

A moment later there is a knock on the door and a visibly delighted Dis lets two well-dressed men enter. “Doctor John Callen,” the older one says “and this is my cousin Peter Hambleton. We received the bloody elf’s letter a few days ago, but we were rather… emotional afterwards, this is the reason for our delay.”

Richard grins when he sees John’s deaf aid. It seems to be a lot handier than his old ear trumpet. “I can certainly understand that,” he says “However, you were luckier than the rest of us – I’m not related to Fili and Kili, Balin has no idea where Dwalin might be and Nori has never met Dori and Ori, although we think we found the latter one.”

The two cousins (or rather brothers) share a relieved look. “You are quite true, we were lucky.”

Ian’s eyes are sparkling with curiosity. “May I ask for your professions?”

Peter’s smile is amused. “I am a high school teacher. However, no one of you will be surprised to hear that John’s a doctor, more precisely a surgeon.”

“Well, that’s quite handy,” Richard comments. “If any of us should get hurt… Ken, would you mind letting them in on them plan?”

Ken smiles his Balin-smile. “Sure, lad.”

“Thank you. Well, Jed – that leaves nine more to find.“

“Eight,” Nori remarks “I told you I already contacted another one. And since you've probably have managed to locate Fili, Kili and Ori we are down to five. That shouldn’t be too hard. Oh, Ian, could you help me? I need you to watch these and tell me when…”

Richard does not listen to the rest of his explanation. He watches the four dwarves and the wizard (well, ex-dwarves and ex-wizard) and for the first time since that fateful night Smaug had bought all the stocks he thinks he will be able to save Erebor.

 

It takes three more days until Ori arrives, being the first one contacted by Jed.

He looks exactly like they have pictured him, being a shy poet. Dis does not mind his clothing (she is still not particularly happy with Ian’s) and the young man blushes behind his old-fashioned glasses when he is standing in front of the seemingly scratch crowd. “I… I’m Adam Brown,” he introduces himself. “I believe you sent me an e-mail requiring my presence?”

Jed, whom the others have gotten to know to be rather quiet and always controlled, jumps up, grabs a splinter of the Arkenstone and gives it to the confused poet. “Take this!”

Richard thinks he can almost see Ori’s whole life reflected in the young man’s eyes and he smiles. “Yes, we have asked for your presence, Ori.”

Adam startles, then squeaks and flings his arms around Jed’s neck. “Nori!” Jed holds him close and all the others look away, giving them a moment of privacy. “Where’s Dori?”

“He’s on his way.”

 

Indeed he is.

However, the next one knocking at the door on a rainy morning is a rather corpulent man. “Hey,” he grins. “I’m Stephen Hunter, the chef you asked for , nice to meet you. What can I do for you?”

This time it is Ken who gives him a piece of the Arkenstone and a few minutes later Bombur is back. “Haven't you found Bofur yet?”

Jed sighs. „We have, but it will take him a little while longer to arrive here. Actually I do believe he is currently at the airport and will soon be boarding his plane, along with Dori, Balin and Bifur. They will not recognize each other yet, though.”

Richard is amazed. “You managed to get them onto the same plane?”

“Indeed.”

Stephen looks a little crestfallen. “I… he died more than hundred years before me. I was hoping to see him again,” he admits.

“And you will,” Ian promises. “I think Nori said they should be here by tomorrow evening.”

Jed nods and Stephen’s face lightens up. “Well, that’s great! Are any of you hungry? We could go out and have breakfast together…”

Richard cannot help but smile. “Sure. I know a nice little café, only around the corner. I suggest we go there and increase our caffeine-levels.” They are basically spending the nights in the office, fearing that one of the others might arrive without them being there. “But before we leave – would you mind telling us what happened to Bofur?”

Stephen’s gaze is fixed on his hands. “Broken heart,” he mutters. “He persevered for a very long time, but one day he just gave up.” Everybody is quite. They all know what ‘giving up’ means for a broken hearted dwarf: He would simply stop eating and drinking, sitting or lying in the same place without moving until he was granted access to the halls of waiting. It is a painful and lonely death.

“Let’s get going, I’m hungry,” Richard finally breaks the silence, although his last statement is not quite true. After hearing of Bofur’s death he feels like someone punched him in the guts. Only too well does he remember the likeable dwarf’s glances at an unaware Bilbo when he had thought no one had been looking. The memory hurts.

 

Jed’s prediction turns out to be quite right. The next evening four men are knocking at the door to Richard’s office. Dis is obviously not really appreciating their presence.

A man with a broad smile starts to speak. “I’m James Nesbitt,” he grins, lifting his hat. “You have asked for me to come here, along with these three gentlemen. However, I have not found out yet what you might need a hatter for?”

Richard cannot suppress the chuckle. Bofur and his love for hats… “We have something for all of you,” he smiles. “Would you mind to introduce your companions? You seem to know each other.”

James’ smile widens. „We met on the plane and realized we had the same destination, so we started to talk,” he explains cheerfully. “This nice man here is William Kircher, our interpreter. He’s awesome with languages. This fellow over here is General Graham McTavish” He gestures at the tall, broad man wearing camouflage and Graham salutes. “And last but not least here we have Mark Hadlow, our resident professor of theoretical physics.” Mark waves. “Now, what can we do for you?”

It is Ken who gives them the splinters.

Amazedly Richard watches as they all remember. Mark starts to smile broadly and immediately hugs Adam and Jed, who seem to be rather unwilling of letting him go within the next two hours.

Graham stares at Ken, and they seem to be communicating merely through their eyes and the Balin-smile. Suddenly Graham growls “By my beard! I’ll never let you get close to a place called Moria ever again!” and then their heads are crashing together. They may no longer be dwarves and John may have to tend their bumps afterwards, but they only seem to be completely content after that.  
“I missed you, too,” Ken smiles and they retreat to a corner of the office, foreheads leaned together, talking quietly. Richard remembers them standing exactly like that after the battle of Moria, when his grandfather had been killed. He looks away.

William puts one hand on Stephen’s arm and one on James’ and is talking Khuzdul rapidly. He seems to be incredibly happy about the fact that there is another language he speaks fluently.

James, however… Richard gulps. The hatter’s smile had vanished the second he had remembered and the pain is clearly visible in his eyes. He hugs Stephen, who seems to be trying to suffocate him, and his eyes are roaming the room.  
Richard tries to ignore the bad feeling in his stomach and watches the dwarves and the wizard in his office. By now everyone is here, except the three people he wants to see most.

 

A few hours later, in the middle of the night, another one arrives. A young, blond man with a charming smile. “Dean O'Gorman,” he says. “What do you need from me?”

Richard thinks his heart stops. They are still not sure whether he is Fili, but they have called him here anyway. He forces a smile and takes one of the splinters from the Arkenstone-streak. “There are a few matters we need to discuss with you.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “What is it about? A casting?”

Richard shakes his head. “No. However, before I start to explain I would like you to have this.” He gives him the uncut gem and watches the young actor collapse in a heap, sobbing. For a few seconds he is frozen, shocked, but then he kneels down next to him, wrapping his arms around his nephew’s shoulders. “Fili?”

Dean’s head shoots up and he is staring at him, tear-streaked. “Kili,” he breathes. “Where is he?”

Richard gulps. “He’s not here yet, but he’ll arrive soon.”

Fili’s fingers are clutching to his shirt and the young man is shaking. “He... he… I watched him fall,” he whispers and Richard feels his heart drop to his boots. “There was so much blood and… I couldn’t help him… I failed him.”

His embrace tightens. “I am very sure you never failed him. It was a battle, people die.”

“No, you don’t understand. He fell protecting me! I was distracted, only for a moment, and he took a lance that was meant for me. If I had been careful… maybe we could have lived.” He is sobbing again.

Richard gulps heavily. He knows Fili probably had gone crazy when he had seen his brother fall. He would have killed hundreds of orcs before he had been shot down by an arrow. With Kili gone there had been nothing left in this world to hold him. He remembers being told about the lance in Kili’s chest, going through his lung, and the arrow in Fili’s heart. That both of them had been dead when they had been found, Fili lying across his brother’s body. Obviously he had protected the corpse until his very end. Richard feels the tears threatening to fall and he rises, lifts Dean and sits down in his huge chair, his nephew on his lap. “He will be here soon,” he promises. “And then he will tell you that you did not fail him.” By now he is crying, too. He will wait with Fili until Kili comes. Slowly their tears are subsiding and their eyes are closing. He recognizes Ken putting a blanket over both of them, then he is gone. Caught in a cruel dream about the Battle of Five Armies. This time he is not facing Azog while his nephews are elsewhere, this time he watches, frozen, as the Defiler cuts of Kili’s head. Fili is screaming and running towards him, directly into his sword, and all the time Thorin is unable to move, bound by some dark magic.

He awakes with a start when he hears somebody yell.

Obviously Dean has woken up, too, for he is rising, his eyes wide. “That’s Kili!” he whispers. “I would know his voice everywhere!”

Richard takes one of the splinters and watches a tired, annoyed Ian open the door.

Dis is standing in front of a young man with green hair and covered in piercings, refusing to let him enter the office. Ian simply pushes her out of the way and drags the singer into the room, closing the door. “Be quiet,” he growls and returns to his chair. Head on his arms, leaning against the desk, he has gone back to sleep within seconds.

Kili opens his mouth when suddenly Dean is running towards him, flinging his arms around the other man’s neck. Richard is too slow to stop him and has to watch the newcomer push his nephew away, his countenance disgusted. “What the fuck? Are you a fag or what?”

Dean backs of like he has been struck in the face and Richard cannot suppress an aggressive growl. “Take this. Now.”

Frightened the young man takes the splinter and moments later his expression is horrified. “Fili!” By now most of the others have woken up, too, and are watching the brothers curiously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that! I didn’t know… I didn’t…” He gulps heavily. “Forgive me.”

Dean smiles hesitantly and reaches out his hand. “I’m Dean O'Gorman now,” he murmurs. “I have missed you, brother.”

“Aidan Turner,” Kili chokes and this time it his him who flings his arms around the older one’s neck.

Dean is clinging to him for dear life. “Forgive me,” he is begging now, sobbing again. “I failed you.”

Aidan seems to be genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The battle…”

The younger one gulps. “You didn’t fail me, Fili. Never. I wanted to protect you because I would rather have died than watched you fall. I could not have lived without you.”

“Do you think _I_ could have lived without _you_?”

Aidan smiles; a sad, soft smile. “No,” he answers and lets his fingers run through Dean’s short hair. The actor sighs contently and cuddles into his brother.

“Never leave me again.”

“I’m not planning to.”

Then they are staring into each other’s eyes and the moment is so private that everyone has to look away. Richard does not want to see them kiss anyway. He is incredibly relieved that his nephews are back, but there are some things he simply does not want to know, even if they are no longer related by blood. _Durin’s_ blood, he reminds himself. _Erebor_. There is still one person they are waiting for…

A quiet snicker makes his head shoot up.

The man leaning against the wall next to the door is wearing jeans and a shirt and the gun in his pocket is conspicuous. Had he not made the noise – they would not have realized he was there. “You are quite strange… and very easy to sneak up to. Jed told me what this is all about, otherwise I would not have come. I cannot remember yet, though. May I have a piece of your Arkenstone?”

Richard is staring at him, unable to take his eyes off of Bilbo. He is vaguely aware that James is doing the same. Finally he rises, giving one of the splinters to their burglar.

The man closes his eyes and his face stays blank when the memories are flooding him, although Richard thinks he sees an unfamiliar sadness in the blue orbs when Bilbo is opening his eyes again, staring directly at him. “Since I trust you all with my life you may know my real name. I am called Martin Freeman these days, but since my profession is strictly speaking not completely legal only very people call me that.”

“What else do they call you?” Ian asks, nosy as always.

Martin chuckles. “Oh, I am known as the Hobbit,” he answers lightly. “My mother used to call me that, since my feet are rather hairy.” Jed huffs.

Richard squints his eyes. “What is it?”

The agent grins. “Nothing.”

“Perhaps you should tell us what that strictly speaking not completely legal profession of yours is,” Graham suggests, the muscles in his strong arms twitching.

Martin smiles. “I’m basically an assassin,” he mutters coolly.

Richard chokes. “You are _what_?” What has happened to his gentlehobbit?

“And why are you saying not completely legal? I thought this rather would be highly illegal!” Bofur asks, his voice shaky.

The Hobbit shrugs. “Because I’m hired by the government pretty often. I’m basically like Jed, only that I don’t belong to any official organisation.” He shares a dangerous grin with the agent. “So, what is it that you need? Jed has informed me about the Red Dragon and Smaug. What do you want me to do – bring you his head?” He is still smiling.

Ian has a coughing fit.  
“We rather expected you to find his weakness,” Ken explains and Martin chuckles softly.

“Like back then it is. I will find that spot of his _armour_ that is weak and you are going to take up the rest of the organisation, then?”

Richard nods, still shocked.  
“Perfect. Do you already have a plan?”

Ian clears his throat. “We will have to find out who they are. Then we can confront them and you can bribe or blackmail – whatever works best – him.”

Again Martin smiles his diabolical smile. “Or threaten to kill him,” he adds. “Okay, I’m in. Where’s the contract?”

 

After that the ice is broken and they spend the rest of the day celebrating their reunion, having decided to start the operation Lonely Mountain (they are all ridiculously nostalgic, but who cares?) in the morning.

The atmosphere is light and the talking easy, it feels as if they had never been separated by centuries. Richard finds himself torn between watching his nephews, Ken and Graham, and Martin.  
Dean and Aidan had vanished a few hours ago and now that they are back their hair is chaotic and theirs clothes are rather messy. They are sitting on the floor (actually all of them are), Aidan leaning against the wall, Dean’s back against his chest. Their finger are entwined and have been since the minute they had started to kiss when they had barely found each other again. They are being so sweet that Richard’s teeth are hurting, but their happiness is contagious.

However, watching Ken and Graham is even much more interesting. They are also sitting close to each other and talking quietly most of the time, the Balin-smile never leaving Ken’s lips. Richard has always seen Dwalin’s devotion to his brother and they had always been very close, however, never as close as Fili and Kili. Balin had pledged allegiance to the king of Erebor and had never been free to enter a relationship. Furthermore, although romantic love among siblings had not been frowned upon in the dwarven kingdoms, it had been very rare. However, now that they are no longer related by blood Richard can almost watch Ken’s hesitation and self-control fade.

His gaze lingers on the Hobbit once more. He had never dared to act on his feelings during their quest, not even fully realizing what they meant. Now, however…

He can still see the pain in James’ eyes. No, he does not want to take the person who had caused Bofur to give up. However, he also sees that James is not looking at Martin as often as he had been looking at Bilbo and when he is his gaze is no longer full of love, but something else. Martin clearly is not the gentle creature both of them had fallen for and while James does not like the new Bilbo as much as he had loved the gentlehobbit, Richard cannot help but be turned on by the thought of a dangerous Martin, moving like a cat, the diabolical smile on his lips and a menacing gleam in his eyes. Preferably he’s have handcuffs, too.

He is pretty sure that this matter will sort out if he only gives it enough time.

The king smiles.

He knows – they will win his Erebor back. After all, who else could do it but this company?


End file.
